This is an experiment to see what I can write in one hour. I’ve just set the timer on my phone.
One of my writing idols and Sisterwife Michelle says she writes blog posts in an hour. And her writing is fantastic. I, on the other hand, take days, sometimes weeks, to write a post.
My process is excruciating. I have to learn how to write in a less labor-intensive way. So this is an experiment to see what I can write in an hour.
Granted, I sometimes research for hours. My last post, I surfed the net (do people still use that expression?) for hours, looking at videos and reading stories about ridiculously lavish parties.
This post will be a no-research post.
For me, writing is rewriting. I spend countless hours looking for better, more evocative ways to say things. Which phrase has more impact? Is funnier? I also love to invent words, and that in itself is a process. It takes a lot of time to come up with yet another euphemism for “vagina.”
Quamph pocket. There.
Meh. It’s not as good as “smush mitten.”
I just realized – I’m rambling on and on because I DON’T HAVE A TOPIC! The integrity of this experiment has been compromised! I need to start over. I’ll think of a topic, THEN try to write on it for an hour.
TOO MUCH PRESSURE.
I couldn’t come up with a topic. I was all errgghhh arrrghhhh ohhhhh fuck!
I have forty-eleven partially-written posts in my drafts, but I can’t just crash in on something I’ve already started and try to finish it in one hour.
How can I explain about my obsession with Patty Hearst in one hour? I don’t think I can do justice to “Kim Kardashian for President” in an hour. And it will take me much longer than an hour, possibly days, to remember “That Time I Got Lost In Madison Square Garden.” If I can remember the details at all, because – well. I DID get lost in a concert arena during a Pink Floyd show.
So, am I just to ramble on, in the hopes that you guys will read my word vomit? My mind is an endless loop of thoughts. It’s extremely hard for me to stay focused. As a matter of fact, while trying to write this, my mind has wandered on in about 20 different directions.
I’ve thought about what rock tee I want to put on Instagram today (Eminem, because shit is getting real these days). I’ve thought about the fact that I offered to drive one of my students somewhere at 7 am tomorrow, and WHAT THE FUCK WAS I THINKING? Aarrrgh. Normally I get to sleep in a little on Saturdays.
I’ve obsessed over the fact that Hanukkah begins this weekend. which means I’ll be making potato pancakes. They’re a lot of work, but my kid really loves them. But after you fry potato pancakes, your house smells like oil FOR DAYS. Like, headache-inducing oil. No matter how many windows you leave open.
I’m 22 minutes and 664 words in, and I’ve written nothing of substance. Wait, does the hour include editing? Shite. What about searching for an image? Crap.
I don’t think I can write a post in one hour.
There are other things I CAN do in an hour. Writing is not one of them.
In one hour, I can make something out of origami. I love those colorful squares of paper. I could really get into a little origami. I’m not talking about a flower or some shit. I’m talking about something a little COMPLICATED.
In an hour I can bake some fierce cookies.
Can cookies be fierce? If I wasn’t on a freaking deadline, I’d look for a better word. What on earth would a “fierce” cookie look like? I would google it, but I’m afraid. Lady Google is an unpredictable bitch.
In an hour I can look up some bizarre expressions in French. I love the way the French say things. For example, the French are not “arrogant.” They “fart higher than their ass is located.” (Péter plus haut que son cul). That’s FANTASTIC.
In an hour I could practice guitar, something I don’t do often enough. I recently joined a band with some teenagers, and I suck compared to them. I suppose it doesn’t matter. None of the Ramones could play their instruments when they first started.
In an hour I could buy something at Walmart. Just one thing, though, because you can drop dead in the aisle at Walmart and still not get noticed by a salesperson. I liken shopping at Walmart to the punishment inflicted on mythological king Sisyphus. He was condemned to roll a boulder up to the top of a mountain, only to have it roll back down to the bottom every time he reaches the top. For all eternity.
In an hour I could go for a run (okay, a walk).
I could get veeery drunk (it doesn’t take much).
I could put makeup on your cat or dog (if you wanted me to.)
I could do “8 Minute Abs,” 7 and a half times (Maths, people). Instead of a 6 pack, would I get a 45-pack?
Speaking of 8 minutes, I have 8 minutes left. I’m going to use them to edit this post, and maybe look for a picture or two. And then, hit “Publish.” If there are typos, cut me some slack! I’ll get better at this…
How long does it take you to write a blog post? What interesting things can you do in an hour?
Talk to me. I’m listening.